


Far From Home

by InsaneHam



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Fluff, Gen, Healing, Hope, New Beginnings, Running Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneHam/pseuds/InsaneHam
Summary: He wanted to go back to Chesterfield. He wanted to go home.





	Far From Home

He was hungry. The little boy staggered along the empty side-street, bent nearly in half in a futile attempt to appease his growling stomach. He felt so horribly empty, a gaping pit of burning hunger constantly nagging for a morsel of food. So hungry was he that had a rotten apple rolled his way, he would gag it down without hesitation, no matter how awful the taste. 

Tears came to his eyes. He didn’t  _ want  _ spoiled fruit. Memories of dinnertime came to his mind, sitting around a warm table with an enormous roasted chicken placed in the middle, bowls of vegetables ringed around, ignored as everyone went straight for the centerpiece. Mom would scold them and tell them to eat their veggies- all while struggling to hide the wide-toothed smile that threatened to break through. Her hug was soft and comforting, like being covered in cushions on a perfect summer day, sunbeams flitting over his skin as he dozed.

So enraptured was he in this daydream that he failed to see the pit in front of him. His sneaker caught, sending him crashing to the ground. Wails burst from his throat, pain sharp from the scrape on his elbows. Clutching it close to his chest, he could see blood welling to the surface and that only made him cry harder. A few late night walkers glanced his way, but most stared stubbornly at their phones, blocking out his cries. No one moved to help, and his cries were lost to the chilling midnight sky. After about thirty minutes of nonstop sobbing, he gave up and curled into a ball, hiding his puffy eyes under his soft, knitted scarf. A sharp breeze blew past and he wrapped his thick coat tighter around him. A loud hiccup jumped from his throat.

He shouldn’t have left. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Mommy was so busy with Brittany and Freddy and the new baby that she didn’t have time to play hide-and-seek with him anymore and Daddy was always at work. Nobody seemed to have time now, it was always just, “Get out of my room, you little brat!” and “Mommy’s tired, baby, she needs to sleep now.” and “Stop being such a crybaby, mom’ll hear!” Everyone was too busy and too angry for him and he didn’t know what to do anymore. He just wanted it all to stop. 

One day, like every other, when the bell had rung and it was time to go home, he walked back to his house, heard the shouting coming through the open window and just

kept walking.

He hadn’t really thought about it. His flashing sneakers had made the decision for him, carrying him farther and farther away until he couldn’t hear them anymore, far, far away from angry Freddy. He walked until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore, until he couldn’t think over the growling in his stomach. He walked until he regretted running away and started to long for the familiar comforts of home, of mommy and her sunlight hugs. 

But when he had turned around, he couldn’t remember how to get home. The streets, the trees, the people-everything was so strange and unfamiliar. He tried asking a happy-looking couple for help once but their smiles were so forced, their concern so fake. Their frozen faces were so unlike anything he had ever known. Who knew what they wanted? He ran from them and the strangers with their frightening apathy and uncaring nature. He wanted Mrs. Sweets, who always had a chocolate bar ready for him, or Mrs. Coots even if she was a bit ugly, kind voice patiently talking him through the math problems. He wanted to go back to Chesterfield. He wanted to go home.

Scuffing footfalls approached and he held himself tighter, ready for the cold indifference everyone else in this place seemed to have. Another sob choked it’s way out of his throat. “Mommy...”

The footsteps stopped. He chanced a watery glance up, only to dive back down when he saw a strange lady looking down at him. She watched the little boy for a few more seconds before crouching down.

“You alright?”

He sniffed and shook his head. 

“Where’re your parents?”

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

Tears started leaking down his cheeks again. “I don’t know.”

Her hands reached out, only to stop and slowly retract as she thought the better of it. 

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

The encouraging tone emboldened him to peek out of his scarf. A sloppy half-smile balanced somewhat awkwardly on her lips, teeth bared a little too much. He shuffled away. Fake, so so fake. Just like all the others.

The poor attempt at a smile-along with the fakeness slipped from her face as her eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, sorry, did I scare you?”

“No.” He said, word slightly muffled by the yarn.

“Because it’s okay to be scared, you know.”

“I’m not scared!” he shouted back indignantly. The lady fell back on her butt with a small chuckle, wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t as old as he’d thought, maybe around Brittany’s age, with a tinkling laugh that was too happy to be anything but real.

“Sure you aren’t.” She swung her backpack onto the ground beside her. “So Mr. Not-Scared-“

“Logan!”

“-Logan, what’re you doing out here so late at night? Your parents must be worried.”

Logan felt another wave of sadness come to his eyes at the mention of his mother. “Mommy’s busy. Daddy’s busy too, with his job. And Tinny and Freddy don’ wanna play with me. No one did. So I started walking and kept walking and walking until I got here. Now I don’t know how to get home.”

“Oh,” she said in a slightly wistful tone he couldn’t quite figure out. He looked up again. She looked so sad, dark ponytail drooping with the force of her sorrow.

“Why’re you sad?” he asked. “Is it because of me? I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“No, it’s... I remember a story a little like that.” A wan smile crept up her lips. “If you want, we can play together.”

“Really?” he said eagerly. She nodded. 

“I don’t have many people to play with either, so we can play with each other.” Her face lit up. “Let’s play where I come from, where I live.”

He tilted his head, not understanding. “How do you play that?” 

“Well, I come from a place, far, far away from here. It’s called Gracefield.” She beamed. “Your turn!”

“My mom says we live in Chesterfield.” He still remembered seeing the huge sign for the first time, colourful and fun. His mom beamed, she was so proud of it. “The sign’s blue, my favourite colour.”

She nodded. “I know where that is. Now, we just gotta go live there.” Jumping to her feet and swinging her backpack onto her shoulder, she extended a hand to him. “Well, Logan? You ready to go home?”

Mommy told him not to go with strangers, but this strange lady felt like someone he could trust. Taking the hand, he stumbled unsteadily to his feet, legs tingly after sitting for so long. Her smile was tender and as he wrapped his hand in hers, he realized there was the warmth he’d been seeking all along. Together, they started their journey back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos for more! Constructive criticism is welcome!


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